


bent but not broken

by nunoneel



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe, Peter Nureyev has chronic pain but he thinks it's normal because no one ever told him it wasn't, Peter Nureyev is constantly having an identity crisis, buddy also has one (1) line, i call this projecting onto peter nureyev, peter nureyev has scoliosis and i have rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25626025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nunoneel/pseuds/nunoneel
Summary: Peter Nureyev was getting old. Any pain he had was either normal or exacerbated. End of story.Unfortunately for Peter, regular checkups were not something that happened regularly as an orphan on the Outer Rim.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 81





	bent but not broken

**Author's Note:**

> i have scoliosis, and i was thinking about peter nureyev (as you do), and i realized that peter nureyev totally could too. so this is peter nureyev has scoliosis but he had no clue.
> 
> warnings:  
> \- medical diagnosis with some shock  
> \- being discontent with your body (not dysmorphia, but it may act similar)

Peter Nureyev was getting old. Any pain he had was either normal or exacerbated. End of story. Peter knew that, but that didn’t stop him from twirling his knife between his fingers while Vespa looked at his test results. He could only hope that she would take this as apathetic instead of nervous.

“So. Ransom,” Vespa sneered, clearly not comfortable with using Peter’s alias. “You’re aware that after the medical check, you’ll be cleared to join the crew, right?”

“Of course, Vespa,” Peter drawled in a voice that he decided could be close to Nureyev’s. “Buddy talked me through all the details weeks ago.”

“Right,” Vespa deadpanned. “Any medical conditions or old injuries I should be aware of? Anything that causes chronic pain?”

Peter’s knife faltered for a moment. “Well, if we’re being completely honest, I broke my arm as a child, and I’m convinced that it never healed quite properly.”

“That all?” Vespa asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yes?” Peter replied, getting ready to put his knife to use.

“So, you aren’t aware that you have scoliosis?”

“I have what?”

“Curvature of the spine. It’s fairly common, but yours is a bit worse than most. I would expect that you wore a back brace,” Vespa explained, her tone failing to hide the surprise.

“Oh,” Peter tried not to seem too shocked. “I was not aware that my spine was anything less than perfect. How, may I ask, did you know?”

“X-rays,” Vespa rolled her eyes, but she handed them over. “So, you have two curves, which is pretty common. Your spine realizes it isn’t straight, so it tries to make up for it. Your lower curve is about 35 degrees, upper one about 20. Most orthopedists would have attempted a back brace to stop the curve or even surgery.”

Vespa paused, waiting for a response from Peter. Peter nodded slightly, so Vespa continued.

“It’s not a big deal, really. I would guess that you’ve probably had back pain for most of your life?” Peter nodded. “Well, if you want, there are stretches that can help, but I just rather you know.”

Peter grimaced, started to speak, and stopped. He stopped twirling his knife to ask, “So it’s not a problem to join the crew?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Vespa responded, grabbing the x-rays from Peter. “Unless there’s anything else…”

“No, of course not,” Peter replied, standing from the chair that reminded him of a clinic in Hyperion City. He moved towards the door before turning over his shoulder. “Thank you, Vespa. It’s nice to be… aware, I guess. I look forward to working with you.”

Vespa grunted, turning back towards Peter’s test results.

Peter’s high heels clicked lightly as he walked down the hall to the room that was all but officially his. The Carte Blanche was large enough to give each family member their own quarters, but Peter presumed it was premature to say anything on this ship was his.

Once Peter reached his room, he locked the door behind him. Surely a ship of thieves wouldn’t find a locked door suspicious. He slipped off his heels before looking towards the mirror that was hanging on the wall.

Peter was vain, but he typically reserved mirrors for getting ready. There was no need to get cocky enough to have one in his room. Buddy must have thought differently, and he couldn’t help but be grateful now.

He looked at himself: perfect posture, a resting face that he knew was unique to Peter Nureyev, and clothes that were tailored to fit Peter Ransom.

Peter took a deep breath and shut his eyes. He forced himself to relax, even though every ounce of his training screamed against him.

He opened his eyes to see the thing he was warned heavily against. Uneven shoulders, uneven hips, all made even more evident by his lanky frame.

Peter shut his eyes, moving back so fast that he ended up sitting on his bed.

Breathe. In. Out.

Straighten yourself. Left shoulder up, right shoulder down. Shift your weight. Posture is important.

He risked a glance at the mirror, confirming that his posture was once again perfect.

_ “Pete, stand up straight!” Mag barked at him. _

_ They were doing prep for another heist. It was important, Mag had told him. After this one, they were going to New Kinshasa. And everything had to be perfect. _

_ “Mag, I  _ am _ standing up straight,” Peter groaned. _

_ Mag took Peter by the shoulders, moving Peter enough where he felt off-balance. Mag nodded in approval and took a mirror out of his pocket. _

_ Opening the mirror and stepping back so Peter could see his whole body, “See that, Pete?” Mag asked. _

_ Peter nodded, his eyebrows squished in confusion. _

_ “Now,” Mag instructed, “go back to how you were before.” Peter relaxed into what he  _ thought _ was straight, eyes opening wide when he realized Mag was right. _

_ “Mag, I don’t…” Peter started. _

_ “Pete,” Mag cut him off. “Second rule of thieving?” _

_ “Act as you belong more than the people who actually do,” Peter recited. _

_ “And what do you need for that?” _

_ “Confidence, a smile, and good posture.” _

_ “Exactly,” Mag smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Pete,” Mag tucked the mirror away and crouched slightly to look Peter in the eyes. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you or what this is, but I need you to listen to me very carefully. You need to stand up straight. You will work at this all night if you have to. We cannot risk getting caught because of something so simple as posture.” _

_ Peter arranged himself in the position Mag had put him in, feeling like he could fall over at any second, but nodding anyways. “Yes, Mag.” _

_ Mag stood up, reaching to touch Peter’s shoulders as if to ensure they were straight. “Back to work, eh?” _

Peter shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memory before it turned to New Kinshasa. At some point, he had gotten used to being off balance. He looked at himself in the mirror, allowing his posture to melt away.

It felt wrong somehow. Perfect posture was something that Peter had prided himself on.

But knowing that it wasn’t something that actually belonged to Peter Nureyev? Perfect posture belonged to Agent Rex Glass, Perseus Shah, Duke Rose, Ellery Wright, Cupid Lance, and so many other people who  _ looked _ like Peter Nureyev.

Peter didn’t know much about Peter Nureyev, despite spending a good deal of the past year attempting to figure it out. Despite obvious facts like age and name, Peter knew Peter Nureyev was a master thief who loves perhaps too easily, prefers leaving as to being left, and has perfect posture. Having part of his identity, albeit a small one, taken from him was almost more than he could handle.

Almost.

He had dealt with much worse than this. Peter Nureyev, despite barely being known, has handled the loss of a father figure, the guilt of killing too many to count, being walked out on, and a broken heart.

He could handle knowing his posture wasn’t naturally perfect. It wasn’t a new fact, just a repressed one.

He sighed, looking at himself in the mirror once again. A knock on the door startled him, he straightened himself up quickly.

“Ransom, darling,” Buddy called. “New arrivals are here.”

Peter listened to Buddy’s footsteps retreat. He resisted the urge to check his posture again before leaving his room.

When Peter realized that he was going to be greeting the only other person in the galaxy who had any idea of who Peter Nureyev was, he perched himself onto the Ruby 7. Peter was still angry and hurt, but he allowed himself to loosen his posture in the slightest, knowing that it wouldn’t be noticeable at this angle.

Peter Nureyev was going to figure out who  _ he _ was. And he was going to show a certain lady how wonderful Peter Nureyev could be, crooked back and all.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: the working title for this was "nothing about me is straight, not even my back."
> 
> you can find me on tumblr: nunoneel
> 
> i love a comment :)


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